


Through the Storm

by Scmnz



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Relationship, Aziraphale and Crowley Have Their Picnic (Good Omens), Cuddles, Dancing in the Rain, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scmnz/pseuds/Scmnz
Summary: It had been the perfect day. The lush countryside dotted in wildflowers, the warm spring air, the clear blue sky, (the same color as Aziraphale’s eyes), with a few cute white clouds floating across it. Those clouds were no longer cute, they loomed dark across the sky, as the first raindrops fell.Aziraphale sighs, looking across the picnic spread he had just finished setting up dejectedly.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Through the Storm

It  _ had  _ been the perfect day. The lush countryside dotted in wildflowers, the warm spring air, the clear blue sky, (the same color as Aziraphale’s eyes), with a few cute white clouds floating across it. Those clouds were no longer cute, they loomed dark across the sky, as the first raindrops fell. 

Aziraphale sighs, looking across the picnic spread he had just finished setting up dejectedly. They are finally free, finally able to go on that picnic promised so many years ago, and now this. It seems like such a minor inconvenience at first glance, compared to everything else they’ve been through. And yet…

Crowley’s hand falls onto Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Something wrong angel?” 

Aziraphale jumps slightly. Crowley had been leaning against a tree, since Aziraphale insisted on getting everything ready himself. He bites his lip and looks into Crowley’s golden eyes as the rain falls around them. “I’m afraid we may have to postpone this outing, my dear.”

“Sure, no big deal.” Crowley shrugs moving to start packing up the picnic things. 

“But it  _ is _ a big deal! Can’t you see that?” Aziraphale huffs. 

Crowley turns back to him, raising an eyebrow. “Why, Angel?” 

Aziraphale is definitely not crying. It’s just the rain, definitely just the rain. It’s coming down harder now, making the picnic blanket muddy and the sandwiches soggy. 

“Angel?!” Crowley returns, taking his face into his bony hands, his voice full of concern. “Aziraphale what's wrong? It’s just a picnic, we can do it some other day.” 

“You’re right, I’m being silly. Overreacting.” He sniffles.

“Hey, hey no.” Crowley’s thumbs wiping the “rain” from his eyes. “ ‘S ok, just want to know why you’re upset. Let me fix it.” 

“That’s just it, my dear. You do so much for me, and you waited for this for so long! You were so patient with me. I wanted to make it all up to you, and now it’s ruined!” 

A gentle smile quirks the corner of Crowley’s mouth. “Angel.” He sighs, fondly exasperated. “I wasn’t waiting for some picnic. I have everything I’ve ever wanted now.” He gently kisses Aziraphale’s frowning lips. “Just being with you is more than enough.” He kisses each of Aziraphale’s damp eyelids. 

If the weather had any sense of drama and romance, the downpour would have stopped and the sun would have shone through at that declaration of love. Unfortunately, the rain remained, the cold drops soaking the pair. 

Aziraphale leans into his touch, still fretting. “I know love, but I still wanted to do something special together.” 

Crowley hums, thinking as he soothingly strokes Aziraphale’s cheeks and damp hair. 

Aziraphale watches as Crowley’s golden eyes light up, and a sly grin forms on his face. 

Crowley takes Aziraphale’s hands in his. He guides one of his angel’s hands to his hip, and laces their fingers together, wrapping an arm around Aziraphale’s waist. He pulls them in small circles, slow dancing in the pouring rain, in the middle of nowhere. 

Aziraphale’s worry fades as they step together, until he’s leaning into Crowley and smiling. 

Crowley beams, eyes soft. “That’s it angel.”

“I love you, you know.”

“Mm. I love you too.” Crowley leans in and kisses him, still gently swaying and rocking them in the downpour. 

Neither of them are particularly good dancers but they don’t need to be. They step on each other's feet, or into puddles of mud, occasionally and laugh as they waltz slowly around the meadow to no music except the sounds of the wind, thunder, and rain. Aziraphale laughs, the third time Crowley trods on his foot. 

“You’re not very good at this my dear.”

Crowley snickers. “What, like you are?” He presses a series of kisses to Aziraphale’s cheeks and forehead. They fall again into contented silence.

After ten minutes or so, the rain shows no signs of letting up.

Crowley strokes Aziraphale’s cold cheek, and the angel shivers “C’mon, let’s get home and warm you up.” Crowley shields him with his wing as they retreat to the Bentley, as little good as that does. They are both completely soaked through already. 

The drive back to the Southdowns cottage is short, but damp. Aziraphale is shivering more by the time they get there. Crowley parks the Bentley, opening Aziraphale’s door for him, and escorting him safely into the cottage with a miricled umbrella. 

Crowley pulls Aziraphale into his arms when they get through the doorway, feeling him shiver slightly again. With a snap, they are both dry and their wet clothes replaced with soft, warm pyjamas, as if they had just come out of the dryer. Aziraphale’s are tartan, naturally, and Crowley’ are black silk pyjamas. The sleek cool effect is somewhat spoiled by the pair of fuzzy snake slippers Aziraphale had given him years ago. 

Aziraphale sighs at the warmth raising an eyebrow at him. He could have, of course, just dried the clothes they were wearing. Crowley shrugs in response to the unspoken question. “This is cozier”.

Aziraphale reaches out, kissing Crowley lightly and running his fingers through his hair. “I am sorry about the picnic darling.” 

“I told you, ‘s not a big deal.” 

“It is to me though.” Aziraphale looks around their front room, determined. “Hmm…”

“Angel, really. I don’t mind.” 

“Hush dear, I’m concentrating.”

With a snap, Aziraphale clears a space on the floor from books and plants. A (clean and dry) picnic blanket spreads itself across the floor. A cheery fire roars to life in the fireplace, contrasting the dreary grey of the world outside the windows.

Aziraphale beams. “I’ll make some coco, you see if we have something easy we can eat, dear. It’s not much but it’ll have to do.”

Crowley kisses him on the cheek before heading to the kitchen. “It’s perfect, angel.” 

Soon they are settled on the floor, Aziraphale curls up in Crowley’s arms as he sips his coco and nibbles the fresh fruit Crowley had found.

Aziraphale settles back into his warmth with a happy sigh, nuzzling his cheek. He takes another sip of coco, before beginning to giggle softly to himself.

“What?” Crowley smiles down at him, holding him even tighter in his arms.

“Oh, it’s nothing much. I just never thought you’d be so warm, before. I always assumed you were cold-blooded dear, and that I’d be the one warming you up. Silly Really.” 

Crowley chuckles, kissing the top of his hair. “Got hellfire in my veins, me.” 

Aziraphale rolls his eyes, but curls up closer. “No need to be so dramatic darling.” 

Crowley certainly seems content to just cuddle by the fire in their pyjamas, while he watches Aziraphale eat with that fond smile of his. All things considered, this “picnic” has turned out quite well after all. 


End file.
